


Tucked Away

by horseboneologist



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Couch Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Don't @ me I just do what comes naturally, F/F, Fluff, Sleepy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:05:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horseboneologist/pseuds/horseboneologist
Summary: An angel and a demon get comfy.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 33
Collections: Promptposal





	Tucked Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [musegnome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/musegnome/gifts).



> This is a Promptposal fic for my stunningly talented Junior Prom date, musegnome! It was based on their prompt of "maps or charts (anything from road maps to star charts to medical charts, etc etc)."
> 
> Check out their [gorgeous gift for me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24468280) (I totally wasn't grinning like a fool through the whole thing, and you totally won't be either).
> 
> I'm still very new at all this, and the following work is unbeta'd, so bear with me.

Aziraphale eyed the laptop dubiously. She was, by her nature, unimpressed with technology. What could a computer do that a human couldn’t? But Crowley had assured her that “this is just a jumping-off point, angel,” and “we’re not making any decisions tonight anyway.”

So there they were, sat on her couch in the bookshop with the sleek little machine perched on the coffee table. Aziraphale had brought out the wine, of course, a lovely young red from Portugal, as well as a charcuterie and a bit of sliced fruit for the occasion. Crowley settled in and leaned against Aziraphale, folding her long limbs under herself and flipping the laptop lid open.

“Where were you thinking to start? Outside Hastings, maybe?” She pulled up the internet program and after a bit of fiddling, a map appeared on the screen. Little blue diamonds cropped up in clusters across the image. “Let me just… narrow this down a bit.” More tapping. “How many bedrooms?”

Aziraphale tilted her head. “I would think we’d only need one, dear.”

Crowley turned and stared over her sunglasses.

“Umm, two?” Aziraphale hazarded.

“Let’s start there.” Crowley looked back to the screen and tapped some more. Several of the diamonds disappeared. “At least two bathrooms -”

“We don’t actually need -”

“- and hardwood floors are non-negotiable. Let’s see… no new construction, I don’t like the smell, and  _ no _ townhouses.” Tap tap. “Do we need a pool?”

“Why would we need a pool, Crowley? We’ll be right next to the ocean!” Aziraphale grabbed a slice of pear and popped it in her mouth. “And what’s a ‘keyword?’” She squinted at the screen. “Why did you write ‘imposing?’”

Crowley grunted as all of the diamonds disappeared. She erased the ‘keyword’ and the diamonds returned.

“Alright, well, we can sort that out later.” Crowley grabbed the machine off the table and looked at Aziraphale. “Budge up.”

“Pardon?”

“Scoot. Just- here- get your leg up here and lean- no- back, that way, yes. There.” Crowley tucked Aziraphale’s leg along her side and leaned back into the angel’s chest. She snatched up the two glasses of wine and handed one over her head to Aziraphale. Her bony shoulders dug into the angel’s chest, so she tucked them down for a moment, nuzzled backwards, and resurfaced, tidily nestled in Aziraphale’s cleavage.

“Make yourself at home,” Aziraphale commented wryly.

“I certainly will. How am I supposed to share a house with you if I can’t even get comfortable? Now just- stop whinging for a moment and look at these.” She drew her long finger across the matte space below the keys and a picture appeared on the screen. A large square house with a sprawling, close-cropped lawn. Boxwood hedges lined a wide, paved drive. Crowley scrolled through photos. Lots of mauve.

“It’s a bit…”

“Nope, you’re right.” Crowley closed the slideshow. “How about this one?” A smaller house appeared.

“Oh, that’s nice! Let’s take a look inside!”

“Guh, terrible. Look at the description. ‘Quaint.’ Means ‘tiny,’ angel.” She dismissed the photo.

“If you say so. Oh look, that’s a bit cute, isn’t it?” Aziraphale tapped the picture of the next house, a dear little white number with red trim.

“Don’t touch! Ach, you’ve gotten  _ honey _ on my screen, you  _ barbarian _ .” Crowley waved her hand and the smudge disappeared. “And don’t roll your eyes at me, I can’t see you but I can feel it.”

Aziraphale smirked and sipped her wine.

“It is alright, though…” Crowley tapped through more photos. “Well-appointed. What does that mean? Fancy light fixtures? Fancy taps in the kitchen. Hmm, we can come back to it.” She returned to the map and clacked around one-handed while the other swapped her wine glass for a nibble off the charcuterie, which she handed up to Aziraphale. “What about- no, look how close the neighbors are, let me see…”

Aziraphale felt herself relaxing, sinking deeper into the cushions. Crowley continued to mutter and tap away at her machine. They would have made quick work of the red, but Crowley kept snapping to refill the bottle (“it’s not bad,” “quite decent, this stuff,” “let me top you up, angel.”) and passing pinches of food up to Aziraphale. Apart from one hand-off that went slightly wide and dripped honey in Aziraphale’s hair, it was altogether a rather lovely way to spend an evening.

“You’re really quite good at this, dear,” Aziraphale mused sleepily, some time later.

“We haven’t even scratched the surface, angel. Some of these are close, but- look- that brick is pretty, right, but what condition do you think the foundation is in? And the roof! Do these people not know there’s moss growing on their house? What a disgrace.” She scoffed to herself.

“We don’t have to worry about the foundation, sweetheart, we can…” Aziraphale yawned, “fix it ourselves if we need to.”

“Yes, but it’s the  _ principle _ of the thing, angel. I want to live in a house that’s been well taken care of. It sets the mood for the place, and I don’t want to spend the next century chasing moss off our roof and setting bricks straight.”

“Certainly, dear.” Aziraphale closed her eyes and set her wine aside. She rubbed her hands together briefly, checking that there was no honey left over from the evening’s snacks, then threaded her fingers into Crowley’s hair. Crowley sighed softly and paused in her tapping.

“It’s important to me that we find a good place. That is, the  _ right _ place.” Crowley spoke quietly. Her long fingernails dragged across the machine again. “I want to do this right.”

“I know, love. I want that too. You’ll find the right spot for us, I have no doubt. I trust you entirely.” Aziraphale toyed with Crowley’s curls, separating them, tugging them into shape and placing them in a fan across her bosom.

“I’m still not used to you calling me that,” Crowley murmured.

“Love?” Aziraphale smiled. “You’d better get used to it. I plan to say it quite often, in future.”

Crowley readjusted herself a bit, disturbing the sunburst of curls Aziraphale had laid out. Aziraphale tutted and set about rearranging them.

Clearing her throat, Crowley said, “Sorry I don’t, as much. Say it, I mean. Sorry I don’t say it as often as you do.” She picked at her fingernail. The computer started to whirr on her lap and she snapped it shut, tucked it aside.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know you too well to be bothered by that. You can call me silly or mawkish or whatever you like, but there’s no fooling me.” Aziraphale ran her fingers along Crowley’s temples, dragged a thumb down to tab against her lower lip. Crowley parted her lips and closed her teeth gently on the pad. She was smiling. “I know you love me.”

“I do, you sentimental old biddy. Very undemonic of me.” She kissed along Aziraphale’s thumb and up to her wrist. “My superiors would be scandalised.”

“Mmm, with good reason.”

“Hush, angel, none of that tonight. I’ve just gotten cozy.” Crowley placed Aziraphale’s hand against her slender chest and twined their fingers together.

“Sleep, then. I won’t stop you.”

“You sleep, hypocrite.”

“I don’t sleep, dearest.”

“So you’ve told me. See you in the morning, angel.” Crowley shifted again, just slightly, and heaved a sigh.

“Yes, in the morning, love.” Aziraphale realized her eyes were closed. When did that happen? But she was quite comfortable, after all, and warm. Oh, maybe Crowley needed- yes, they had a blanket now. She heard Crowley hum happily. In the morning, then. They’d talk more in the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! And thanks to the GO-Events discord server for being the most wholesome, depraved, supportive, and feral creatures on the interwebs.
> 
> ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ̀


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